


swallowed up by years

by Saraste



Series: Femslash February 2017 [2]
Category: Dracula - Bram Stoker
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, F/F, Femslash, Femslash February, Introspection, Love/Hate, Vampire Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-21 15:03:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9553820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saraste/pseuds/Saraste
Summary: Mina has lived far beyond her mortal lifespan, sharing her existence with Lucy, she thinks about the past, the present and the future and how she isn't quite human any longer.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I dubbed this sort of thing femangst (was actually a typo)in a conversation with my sis today.
> 
> Written for prompt 2: mistaken for dating from [this post.](http://lingeringmirth.tumblr.com/post/156668017677/femslash-february-prompts) I was... lets say creative with the prompt.
> 
> I have all the feels over lucmin. About vampire/not quite human companion relationships, really. These two will always have a desperation undef the surface, especially from Mina’s side.

 

They make it a hundred years and over. Some days, Mina can scarce believe it. She never could have predicted her life becoming like this, stretching over a century, stretched thin… how had it been put in that one book, the one she’d never have lived to read, had her life been normal? _I feel thin_ . _Like butter scraped over too much bread._

 

She can’t even remember the last time she had bread, as she has other appetites now.

 

But stretched thin over too much, that feels about right. She feels more weightless by the year, less and less of her left every year, less of who she had been. Then.

 

It’s actually been over a century, she thinks. Cannot think too much about the years, of particular years, because it, it makes her head spin.

 

This is an age of gadgets, of things she would not have dreamt about, of little mechanical devices you can talk into, take messages, take photographs. Keep a journal. Anything. And Mina journals it, keeps score, of anything but the deaths, they happen but aren't recorded, not any longer. It had almost driven her mad.

 

How can the source of her greatest joy be the source of her greatest sorrow?

 

Lucy is her girl, her constant companion, the reason Mina’s life has been stretched longer than it ought have been. All that she ever knew had died slowly, swallowed up by years, everything but Lucy.

 

Her Lucy.

 

They had been just a pairs of girls, once. Close as close got. In the hectic never-sleeping now, in the future she doesn’t want to be in, mostly, Mina sometimes looks back and thinks if anyone had seen the _more_ that had already been there.

 

The more which lured Lucy back to Mina when she had been changed, become… different.

 

The more which had been there in hushed breaths and stolen kisses and fingers touching where only a spouse ought to have touched.

 

Mina wonders.

 

They have touched everywhere in the years since, when Mina has been slowly dying, never aging. Lucy looks as young as she ever did while Mina feels ancient even if she doesn't look it,  for gers is still a mortal soul… of a sort. There isn’t a part of each other they have not tasted, and were it not for the headiness of Lucy’s blood, Mina would have been dust long ago.

 

That only spouses ought to touch had been her upbringing in a time which did not acknowledge a woman passion for a woman, Mina thinks that her parents would not have approved what she had indulged in, then. She’s married now and allowed to touch as much as she wants. Touch her wife. Still she thinks her parents would disapprove.

 

‘You're mine now,’ Lucy says, kissing Mina with her cold lips.

 

Mina sighs under her touch, her back bowing as fingers slip between her legs. ‘But did it have to be Whitby?’ she asks, gasping, opening up, slick and eager. Whatever they are to each other, none but Lucy have touched her like this, in this they are still connected.

 

And Mina _won't_ be the one to end this, because she won't kill Lucy.

 

Lucy, who now kisses her sweetly, caresses her gently, body pressed to hers, fingers _right there._ She coaxes Mina to a shuddering climax with just her fingers. It makes Mina feel properly alive. Present and not adrift in a time she shouldn't have lived to see. It's their wedding night. She ought to be happy.

 

‘It would always be Whitby, dearest.’

 

‘I know.’

 

Mina curls herself between Lucy's thighs, kisses her thighs, laps at her, makes her tear the sheets in her frustration. She pleasures Lucy until she shudders, her whole body curling to hunch over Mina. The bite comes, as it always does, just a sip, and then Lucy's kissing her with bloodied lips.

 

She shivers.

 

Lucy keeps and keeps them on the edge and when they're finished, Mina doesn't much care if she's over-lived her life, as long as Lucy will stay with her until the very end.


End file.
